Shrimp Christ

1: Meeting Shrimp Christ

Jeremy was done with deities. He only knew one but that guy was a horrible worm and he didn't care to meet any of the others.

First of all, his office hours were horrible. 5am to 9am then from 6pm to 7pm then from 3:33 am to 4:20; all the hours he wasn't available. He wanted to find whoever came up with that horrendous schedule and bitch slap them all the way to Ohio. Oh wait, it was probably God, making his point even more valid.

Second, even if you did manage to be around or awake during these hours, it was rare you would ever get an actual answer or be redirected to someone who knew what the fuck was going on. Usually an angel working for less than minimum wage would answer with some trite heavenly wisdom in an annoying three-voiced tone. The 3:33 to 4:20 window was the only time Jesus Christ himself ever answered, at least supposedly. But Jeremy wouldn't know because when he called at that hour, he was redirected to Little Caesars' Pizzeria.

Yes, Jeremy had had enough of the heavens and all their inhabitants. At this rate he would never get a refund for the loaf of garlic bread which was snatched away from him by the hand of God. He still remembered in perfect detail the moment when a giant semi-translucent hand with nails painted bright fuschia reached out of the sky from where he stood by the sea cliffs, daintily grabbing the corner of the bag of garlic bread between its thumb and middle finger and lifting it away. A Michael-Jackson-esque "Hee Hee Hee" echoed around him from no particular source, and he knew that God was his saboteur.

Bitter but not yet defeated, Jeremy now walked along the streets of Angeles Los, seeking a place to buy a pair of sunglasses for his eventual rematch with God. But instead, a humble seafood restaurant caught his attention. A sign that looked like it had been drawn in thick sharpie read "IT'S JUST SHRIMPS", accompanied by a simple drawing of a crying shrimp in a similar style to the pain-agony frog.

Jeremy simply could not look away. The restaurant drew him in and before he knew it he was swinging open the door and stepping over the threshold. A sound like a rubber chicken announced his arrival. Not long after, a disembodied voice shouted "PLEASE BE SEATED", and a neon arrow sign above an empty table pointed to where he was to go. He had to respect this business's efficiency; not a single cent wasted on greeters or waiters.

Still, there was something peculiar about this place. It was just as dingy inside as it was questionable from the outside, so he supposed he should not be too surprised. Not a single person besides him was in the restaurant, and it seemed as though no one had been there in a while, for a heavy veneer of dust coated all surfaces, except the table at which he now sat. The menu looked like a relic from another time, but strange holographic blue symbols danced around the curling edges of the paper, only visible from the corner of his eye. Indeed, something was not right.

Aha, and he had deduced it. The salt shaker was adjacent to the ketchup, not in front of it. Jeremy corrected this and continued on with his restaurant experience. It had been a long while since he had been to a restaurant.

He scanned the menu for a delectable shrimp dessert, for, like all wise folk, Jeremy always began with dessert. But now his eyes were drawn to a dish listed in the smallest of print at the very bottom of the menu: "shrimp christ".

Shocked, Jeremy was hit with the revelation that perhaps this was the connection to the heavens that he had been searching for, a gateway to God, the pathway to kicking God in the kidney that was now being shown to him by fate. Perhaps Shrimp Christ and Jesus Christ were two different entities, but what did it matter?! Shrimp or not, it was nonetheless a Christ, a heavenly creature who would most certainly get him a second audience with God himself. He had to have Shrimp Jesus.

$900. Realistically a bit out of Jeremy's budget, but he would do anything to avenge his stolen garlic bread. He placed his credit card in the tray at the end of the table, and when his eyes reopened after a blink, it was gone. A second blink and it had returned, and Jeremy could feel in his soul the additional nine hundred on his already multimillion dollar debt.